Periwinkle Black
by Jomb
Summary: UNEDITED BEWARE: Donatello has betrayed his family. A year after he joins the Shredder, his brothers have completely disowned him and released any hope of him returning to their side. Don would like to -really!- but the Shredder has always been more of a God than a man. And Gods know how to bend reality to their will. Don hates it's his reality that had to be bent.
1. Chapter 1

Donnie really didn't want to be out in the city. Not now, not ever. But of course, he had no choice. Just like he had no choice in anything he did anymore. He slept, woke up, ate, trained, breathed and spoke under heavy-set regulations that let him feeling more robot than terrapin.

He should have been happy to get out of the labs and the opressive cold of the training rooms. Shredder hadn't let him leave his lair for an entire year after he started to work for him, helping plan and build gadgets and weapons used agaisnt the very turtles he once called his brothers (of course, not without loop holes for them to win agaisnt. Subtle ones, thank you very much. Baxter wasn't as smart as he liked to think.) But every once in a while, he would be given the privelege to go outside if he was good. It was always a low-grade job, usually in tandem with the Purple Dragons. Something Don couldn't fuck up or sabatoge without too many repercussions. Shredder would never fully trust him.

The first time he saw the sky again, Donnie had been... well, not happy, but definetly excited. He tagged along with the foot ninja and one of the Shredder's personal lap dogs: Karai (not that she was mean or anything, but she was a bit of a drag to be around). Once again, it was a simple job. Help the purple dragons with a weapons haul and transport it safely across the city to the docks. They had to meet up with a van at an abandoned warehouse (originality was top priority around here) and traveled there by foot. Karai led the large group of ten or so black clad ninja. Don wore the same get-up too, most of his green skin clothes in the same dark and red patterns he once stained with blood.

His bo had been snapped in half by the shredder himself and he had been gifted with what the man assumed were lowly weapons for a lowly creature: two kamas. Basically short sickles that fit into both his palms with what had once been unfamilair and clumsy weight. Now, he knew them as well as he had his precious bo. He hated them. They clicked against his hips as he jumped to the rooftop near the designated warehouse. Karai held up a fist and everyone fell in behind her. Don crossed his arms, brunting the worst of the wind. It had picked up severly in the last half hour and the city was filled with the low howl of the breeze.

 _A preminition of bad things to come,_ Don thought wearily.

It's not like he didn't expect three unwelcome visitors to appear tonight. Everytime he came out into the open, they somehow knew. They kept their ears open for any chance they could to confront him. Don sighed and Karai shot him a glare. She knew just as well as he did what would happen. She hated "babysitting jobs" like this, but Shredder insisted. Don assumed the metal-sheathed behemoth just liked making him suffer.

"Donatello," Karai began, accent thick, resolve booming. "Stay here with unit B. Should any guests appear, you know what to do. Unit A, follow." She paused before jumping from the ledge, a pitiying glance over her shoulder. "Do steel yourself, turtle. I don't want a repeat of last time." Then she was gone, and Donnie was left with a group of five, the memories of last time flooding his head. He snapped the flood gates closed and watched the sky line and the van below. The purple dragons were already busy hauling heavy, wooden boxes into the back of a non-descript white van. Karai didn't do lifting. She just barked orders and had scouts secure the permiter. She was anxious to see one of their guests tonight. He always made her anxious.

And then he saw it. A glint in the dark way out on the roof of a nearby building. He thought about ignoring it and playing dumb. But then, he'd only be avoiding the inevitable. He looked to one of the ninja, nodded his head in the direction of the seemingly imagined shadow and said, "they're here."

Karai was alerted by her ear piece and he saw her immediatly order the dragons and her team to work faster, pretending she didn't know. Don waited another few minutes and then he saw her draw her swords. A shadow fell from the sky and steel clashed agaisnt steel. Gunshots rung out and the shadow was gone. Don turned just in time to see another one crouching near the back of his building's roof, watching with a sai glinting in his hands and a grin sprawled over his face. It wasn't a happy one. Not by a long shot.

"Well hey, if it isn't the traitor," Rapheal stood up to his full height, all the ninja immeditaly descending upon him.

Raph, the powerhouse he was, killed two of them with a furious sweep of his arm and a few well placed strikes of his pommel. Blood flew from throats and the rest circled around him, wary. Don would have been appalled at the bloodshed only a year ago. Karai had been shocked too, when Leonardo, who he could hear making a commotion along with Mikey on the street, had picked up the messy habit. Mikey still retained some sembelance of his father's strict rule to only kill out of neccessity. Raph and Leo decided it was necessary when they officially disowned Don.

Said Don withdrew his two kamas. He hated fighted Raph. It wasn't like their old days sparring. It wasn't even like training with Shredder's personal guard or Karai on one of her off days. It was scarier than that. Don's face stayed impassive, as difficult as it was to mantain, when Raph killed two more ninja and pointed a bloody sai at him.

"What, you coward?!" He shouted. "Not gonna help your little friends, huh?! Jsut gonna sit there and let them do all the work."

There was one ninja left. Poor guy looked stricken between pursuing Raph and fleeing. Don sighed, rolled his shoulders in an attempt to soothe the tension in his muscles. When he was done, the last ninja was dead at Raph's feet and the red-banded terrapin was watching him with steely eyes and bared teeth.

"One on one, eh? Just like old time, waddya say?" There was a strain in Raph's voice. There always was. Don couldn't remeber what he sounded like without it.

Before Don could answer, there was a resounding _boom!_ that richoted from the street. The van, Don's mind supplied unhelpfully. He felt heat at it back, but wasn't dumb enough to turn and watch the high-rising flames. He did hesitate though, and Rapheal tried to slide himself and his sai into Don's side. Don side-stepped and dodged. He couldn't do much else. Rapheal was on his ass like glue and the breath of the blades sliced too close to his skin with each step backwards. Before he hit the ledge, he ducked and clipped Rapheal agaisnt his bicep, just enough to draw blood and throw him off balance. Then he was down in the alley, jumping down the straiwell that shook agaisnt his weight and landing softly on the cold, aspahlt below. Rapheal was following quickly behind and Don took a moment to gain his breath before the fighting started again.

It was mindless exertion. Don was cut several times along his carpace and once in the shoulder. Blood gushed heavily from that particular wound and Rapheal's eyes had lit up with something that made his stomach flip under the pain. He was getting slower. Antoher cut scraped his neck - and holy shit, was Raph actually trying to kill him?! The thought wasn't so far-fetched, no that he thought about...

Don ducked and rolled and kicked Rapheal's right knee out from under him. It gave him enough time to jam his pommel into the other turtle's temple and leave him sprawled on the ground, already clawing his way back to his feet with a furious snarl. Don fled for the streets where Karai was still going at it with Leo. Mikey was no where to be seen, but purple dragons littered the street. Dead, red seeping from their bodies and merging like a lake. The moon shone silver against it and it almost looked pretty.

"You're dead, you _sonofabitch_!"

Don turned just in time to catch Raph's desceding sais with his curved blades - and oh, look at that, the sharp edges were _really_ close to sliding into his skull. His arms trembled and ached. He ground his teeth together, snorting through his nostrils. Wow, this was really truning out to be a bad night.

And then it was over. Leonardo's voice broke out through the tension and Don couldn't quite catch what he said, but Raph drew back and slammed his foot into Don's carpace. When Don next looked up, they were all gone, and Karai and a few survivors were left amid the wreckage, no other turtle in sight. The woman was cut up and bleeding. She held herself, despite the exauhstion she must be feeling, and catch his eyes with a tired glare. They both looked at the van - up in flames and burning with their cargo.

Don hadn't expected the night to turn out any other way.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I should mention, this is heavily based on the 2003 cartoon series, but can be interpreted any way you want. Also, I may have taken some inspiration from an old Teen Titans episode and I think it'll be obvious which one that is very soon ;)

The Shredder was well aware they would fail. The turtles were always more brutal - _stronger, more powerful_ (his words, not Don's) - when their disowned brother was around. The blood shed had been particulary horrendous tonight, and Shredder almost had an air of amusment about his while Karai elaborated on their failure of a mission.

The hulking man sat at his throne, the torches dimly lit and casting an ugly orange over his armor. Fingers clacked agaisnt his arm rest, listening and thinking all at once before Karai concluded with the death toll. Ten survivors out of fifty. The purple dragons had been taken out with barely a struggle. The weapons were gone and so was the profit they'd have brought in. Shredder - Don dared to hope from his place at the back of the room - didn't seem overly concerned. But then he waved his hand and told his Karai to leave the room. He wanted to have a word with the turtle.

 _Oh fuck me,_ Don cringed mentally, forcing his chin up as he walked down the wide aisle. Karai passed by him and her face softened for a fraction of a second. She left through the large doors and Don was alone, kneeling at Shredder's throne with his head bowed and one arm draped over an extended knee. The humilation of the pose had long left him.

"So you fail yet again," Shredder's voice was low but it broke through the quiet of the lair like broken glass. Don forced himself not to flinch. "As with the following months, you seem to be failing quite a bit. Baxter has told me how you'e been handling your duties beside him as well. Am I too assume you still have The Foot's best interst at heart?"

The final statement was dripping with an edge as sharp as a blade. Of course, they both knew the answer to that. No, not really. Don would rather be off relaxing on a beach with a mimosa in his hand and sunglasses on his face instead of this black cloth. But Shredder continued on with his speech, danger behind every word. Don could only think back to his interaction with Rapheal and the way his sai had been _so close_ to digging into his throat. Had he not-

"Am I speaking to myself, turtle?"

The spitting insult broke Don out of his thoughts and he cursed himself, quickly bowing his head once more. "No, Master. Apolgies."

"I am begining to wonder if keeping you alive is worth this mess," Shredder continued. "It seems your old family has fully embraced turning away from that miserable rat's code of honor. It's becoming tedious, these losses. And you've done little alongside Baxter to prove your own worth. Your head in a box might appease the turtles..." He paused and Don could only guess what kind of expression tainted his face. The Shredder used to order Karai to go into great detail about his brothers - er, ex-brothers? - would plead for Don to return to them. Then, he seemed more than intrigued when they began to treat him the same as any other enemy. Now, Karai had indulged The Shredder about Rapheal's inent to actually kill him. To Don's surprise, this seemed to bore The Shredder greatly.

"What use do I have for a pawn who riles my enemies to the point of seeing nothing but red?"

 _I'm not the one who wanted to leave in the first place!_ Don wanted to yell. _I'd rather hide out in the lab all day with the talking head!_

"Well? You have nothing to say in defense of you life?"

"No, Master," Don merely replied.

The Shredder made a noise in his chest, bored maybe and told Donatello to return to his work. Don stood, strangely empty and wishing maybe he had jsut ended it all right here, before padding off into the dark. He was no longer shackled to an escort. The ninjas that stood at ready, like knights posted in a castle, didn't bother to sneak glances at him anymore. No one cared. Don didn't care. He just made his way to the bight, flourescent lab where Baxter was floating in his cylinder of bubbling liquid, robotic arms pulling vials from the shelves as he read the labels in quick succession. He turned when the turtle came in, his metal body buzzing as it propelling him around to face his asssitant.

"Ah, so he returns," came the smug reply. Baxter loved when Don went on his feild trips. "How are the boys? You look like you had fun."

Don ignored him, pulling a first aid kit from under one of the cupboards and getting to work sterilizing and bandaging his cuts. He tried not to think of Rapheal's flaming eyes or the hatred that resided there. Baxter's voice was annoying enough to help with that.

"Ouch. Poor thing. Looks like you got a bit roughed up? I heard about the shipment, by the way. Surpised your still here."

Don rolled his eyes, pulling the bandage apart with his teeth and wrapping the rest around his wrist. It was bruising a bit, dark blue agaisnt olive green. "Haven't I lost three others?" Bitterness seeped into his tone, and Don couldn't help but feel sick satisfaction as he said, "Unlike you, I get to make mistakes."

"If you're trying to antagonise me, turtle, I'm afraid I'm in much too good a mood to be bothered. Perhaps you'd like to hear why?"

Ew. Don could hear Baxter's own satisfaction, not unlike his own, dirty and bubbling up from his throat. The scientist's metal body wheeled back to the shelves and he drove down himself to the computer that lit up half the wall. A few lightening fast keyboard strokes later, and a profile was brought up: a catalouge of dna seqeunces and some compounds listed below it in small but heavy text. Don's blood ran cold.

"You said I wouldn't have to do this for another year!" Don growled, his anger getting the best of him.

"Yes well," Baxter began, his shit-eating grin stretching widely across his face, "I'm afraid I didn't make the last batch as potent as you had wanted. This time, please remember that you need only leave a shallow cut."

Don winced. Last time... had been a very bad accident. The serum in question was an antidote, adminstered once a year to keep a ravenous bunch of nanobots from waking up. From being activated. From tearing their host from the inside out... His kamas suddenly felt burning hot agaisnt his hip.

"Give me a week and it'll be all ready to go," Baxter was saying. "Meanwhile, please continue work on the processor. I want it up and running by tomorrow afternoon."

Don merely turned away, a slight limp in his step as weariness crashed into him. Guilt and horrendoues anger. He had been angry a lot. It use to make him laugh dryly, thinking he was turning into Raph, but then he realized that his was a different kind of anger. The kind that made him want to stick a knife in his throat. But then, Mikey would be dead. And we couldn't have that, now could we?

The Hun had wanted to tag along on his second annual yearly serum run. The brute loved any chance he could get to see the turtles fighting. He loved it, and he loved joining the fray with terrible taunts. Luckily, Karai had volunteered to go instead and Don found himself back under the night sky with her, walking along the edge of a random building and fumbling with the syringe in his belt.

"Do not break it," Karai warned. His fingers stilled along the cap.

"I'm not. Just- I thought you said you had a lead here-"

"Patience, Donatello," the woman ordered. They leveled each other even looks and Don finally let his arm droop.

"So..." he tried to lighten his voice. He never had any real malice towards Karai. She was just a soldier doing her job, and she treated Don exactly as she would any other of her followers. "When will they be here."

Karai strolled up next to him and pointed down into where a van was parked. It was cold and empty and on the side read: _Pammy's Ice Cream on Wheels._ An dark bank, the building they stood on, was right across the street.

"Should they take the bait," she began, "they'll beleive the van is for here for this," he tapped her foot firmly on the roof, down to where a vault sat. "Survelliance only, but Leonardo is never one to let criminals sit and think, now is he?"

Don looked away, back down to the ice cream truck. He and Karai crocuhed and waited. It was a good hour before her body tensed a miniscule amount. They was a figure in the alley, hard to see unless one looked at the shadows correctly, that dissapeared behind the van. He couldn't tell who was suddenly crouched down below at its tailgate, pressing soemthing to the door and then dissapearing again. Everything went still and Don looked to Karai out of the corner of her eye.

"They planted a bug." she noted quietly. "We'll have to initiate then. I'll distract the two, and you... You know what to do."

Don slipped back from the edge. Karai jumped down into the street. He played with the syringe again, the ugly red liquid shifting in the vial, warm agaisnt his finger tips despite the cold night air. The turtle streaked down the side of the bank and fell into the alley where he made sure to fall into the shadows behind some trash cans. Karai was standing in the street, her swords drawn and her posture feining nonchalance. She knew the subtle ways to piss Leo off, didn't she?

"Come, turtles!" She shouted. Her voice cracked through the air like a whip. "We have unfinished business, don't we?!"

 _What the hell was she doing?_ Don thought. He knew she was gonna cause a distraction, but this was just dumb. A ninja star flashed out of the dark and she caught it before it strike her chest. Then another three followed and she dodged deftly, laughing, coaxing what must have been frustration from the throwers.

"No wonder your dear brother left you. Weak, always hiding like your rat."

 _Oh, Karai, come on, don't bring me into this._ And then his brain short-circuited and he almost started to cry. He... had tried not to think of his father. His only parent, who he was forgetting the face of, who was hidden somewhere in a new lair because his own son betrayed him. What Don wouldn't give to feel his arms around him or a comforting pat on the head. Just... fuck, he was crying now. Don let his fabirc dry his face, the streaks glossy and cold.

But Karai's taunts did the trick, and Leonardo was in her face, their swords clashing again as they had a few nights ago. Karai side-wept his legs and kicked him backwards, onto the sidewalk. Another turtle came out, wearing red and dropping in from behind. Don didn't think. He was suppose to stay put sure, but Karai had only just noticed him and Don threw one of his kamas. The handle struck Raph's wrist and one of his own said went loose. His feiry eyes turned to Don, and the turtle could only think: _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,_ as the brute came barrelling towards him like a charging bull.

 _Whoosh!_ Don threw a smoke bomb. Three actually. And the street began to cloud with purple smoke. It was thick and heavy in his throat and it made his eyes burn, but damn it if he wasn't going to use as many as he could to get the hell out of here. It's not like Karai couldn't handle them both anyway. He'd never think Raph to be a kill from behind kind of guy. Not with humans anyway, but there was a lot he was learning about his brothers. Speaking of...

Don had no idea where Mikey was. He had thought he heard him the night of the weapon's shipment, but the orange-banded turtle had been coming out with his remaining siblings less and less. After that faithful night Don tried to inject the life-saving serum and screwed it up royally, Mikey was probably confined to the sewers a lot. It made Don feel like shit as he withdrew the syringe and dissapeared around the van and down the alley, hoping against hope that maybe Mikey wouldn't be here tonight. That maybe they could post-pone until tomorrow? But then Mikey'd be dead. Baxter liked to shorten his time frame dramatically. Give him incentive, you know?

Luckily, Don did find him. Several rooftops over, probably under orders by one of his brothers to stay put and out of the way. He was on a large ventilation system, nunchucks out and twirling through his fingers nervously, watching the smoke that was rising up several streets over. His limbs kept tensing as if he were battling agaisnt himself to go and help. Don took a deep breath, gathered himself, and snuck silently around the system. Mikey was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. Too concerened to see the back-clad hand sneak up behind him or the arm that suddenly wrapped around hsi throat. The nunchucks were extracted and thrown to the side, and desperate limbs came up to grapple with Don's arm. Don bit his tounge as the syringe was slid into Mikey's neck, a terrified choking sound escaping him. The plunger was pressed and the conents drained. Don backed away as quickly as he could, the whole injection taking mroe more than a second. Mikey fell into a crouched and rolled away, picking up his nunchucks in the process and facing his attacked with a mask of bravado.

When he saw who it was, his face crumpled.


	3. Chapter 3

Mikey's eyes began to grow wet, but his lips were peeling back and his teeth were bared, like he was struggling to keep his legs straight. All Don could do was stare, catching the weariness in his eyes and the way his body looked smaller than he recalled. Don hadn't been close to Mikey since the accident. He couldn't move his feet. Couldn't disappear down into the alley and call Karai and go... go home? To Shredder? To Baxter? To another year of being a slave and then... His brothers were struggling too. Don was hurting them, both by attempting to keep Mikey alive and _not being there anymore._

 _"Don."_

Mikey's voice was so small.

"Donnie, please-" he chocked on hsi own words, nunchucks clattering to the ground and a hand reaching out, offering a palm. "Please, I- I- I had it all thought out, what I was going to say to you!" Mikey suddenly burst. "We love you! You know that right? You know we still love you and we want - no, need - we need you back! Please, Donnie, I can't- Raph and Leo are falling apart! Splinter and I miss you and we-" His words had become hard to udnerstand. The turtle began to cry, hand still outstretched and still begging Don to just take it and go home.

A year, right?

Don felt his heart flutter, a thought he hadn't even considered before. Not through the constant haze of fear. Of what could happen. But... Mikey had the antidote in him. It would work for a year, and he could... make one himself. Do blood work and tests. But what if he couldn't? What if he couldn't make the serum in time?

He could stick a huge middle finger up to Baxter. The man who _thought of every detail, no matter how small._

Shredder would be mad. Don's thoughts halted. Shredder would be really mad.

"Don! Please!" So much desperation clouded Mikey's voice. Don was dispelled from his turmoil.

"Get the fuck away from him!"

That wasn't Rapheal. That was-

 _Hmp!_ Don grunted as he was quite literally thrown to the other side of the roof by a shoulder to the side. He rolled and came to a stop, coughing as he took his kama in hand and held it over himself defensively. Leo was standing in front of Mikey, his katana glinting dangerously like wolves' teeth, watching Don with the same hatred he only reserved for the Shredder. Don tried not to let that hurt his feelings.

"No! Leo, we were talking!-" Mikey was interuppted by a sharp hiss and fell back, wringing his hands, looking to both brothers with wet eyes.

"We have nothing to say to _him_ ," Leo pointed a blade at Don. "You dare touch my brother? You dare show your face in these streets? Leave. Now. Or I will not hesitate to kill you."

Don stood up slowly, wearily. He couldn't get his plan out of his head. Who knows how long he'd be stuck inside. How many prescious hours he would lose, looking for a cure. He wouldn't be able to do so behind Baxter's... er, tube thingy... but Leo looked deathly serious. His plan might have failed before it even began. But... the syringe was laying near the ventilation system and he could see a few traces of the red still at its bottom. He could... he could help... he could... do something to...

Donatello surprised himself by choking on a sob. He felt humilated, but damn it, if he was going to just die under Shredder's foot. His kama fell out of his hand and he threw it across the roof, holding his arms out to either side of him. He had to know.

"Do it," he spat, hiding his grief behind the a stony voice. "Kill me, then."

Leo's body faltered, then straightened again. "I'm not playing games. Leave. Now."

"Make me," Don spat right back, and it felt kinda nice to act like a petulant child and- _oh, shit, Leo was running at him._

But Mikey was quick, always had been, and caught Leo on his belt, both of them tumbling to an awkward roll. Leo shoved Mikey off of him, turning on his brother asking what the hell he thought he was doing. Then Karai was there, and Don's head spun as she launched herself at him, taking his wrist and trying to get him to head back to the lair. Rapheal was close on her heels, hopping up onto the rooftop just as Karai told him to get moving.

Don jerked his arm back. Karai stumbled and stopped, truning to him with first confusion and then fury.

"We're leaving, now, Donatello!" She backed a few paces, stopped. Don felt bad. Shredder would be anger with her too. She knew it, so she withdrew her sword again to fight off his three brothers and get him back to the labs. "Donatello, now is not the time for this!"

"I'm not going back!" He shouted back, voice hoarse. She tensed, looking like she might wound him herself and carry him back.

Silence strung between the group and Mikey picked himself off the ground, looking so hopeful it fucking hurt. Don wanted to help him up, but Leo and Raph's weapons kept him at bay. They were staring holes into his head, probably wondering how best to cut it off.

"If you do not come back now, you know what will happen," Karai hissed.

"An another year from now?" Don asked her, refusing to take his eyes off those blades. "And another. Until what?"

Karai was quiet for only a beat. "And you think _they_ want you back?"

"We do!" Mikey shouted, desperate.

"No, we don't!" Raph shoved himself ahead of Leo, his eapons angling up towards Don's throat. Karai stepped back, made no move to help. Don was grateful for that. "Mike's outta his wits right now, and I ain't lettin' ya get in his head! I should fucking slit your throat right now."

And then Leo spoke. "What is that?"

The syringe. Everyone saw it, hidden in the shadow of the ventilation system. Mikey held a hand up to his neck as if realizing what exactly had occured and his eyes widened a bit. He looked at Don as if for answers. Leo stepped in front of him.

"What was that!?" He demanded. "What did you do?!"

"Donatello-" Karai was behind him.

The sais drew closer to his neck. "What the hell is talking about?!"

Karai's sword was drawn up to Raph's face and the two stood there, Don between them, his mind racing what the hell he should do next. Of course, he'd never be welcomed back into the sewers. His plan was just some dumd hopeful dream. And yet, he couldn't help but look to Mikey and see that he too had that same hope still lingering in his eyes. Karai spoke for him, though, withdrawing her sword after a moment of thought and leaving Don to Raph's mercy. She crossed her arms, defenless, looking at Leo and flashing him a look Don couldn't quite pin-point the meaning of.

"Mikey's been poisoned."

 _Karai, you bitch-!_ The sais pressed into his skin. He thought he was going to be on the ground, lifeless, when Karai spoke again, quickly and to the point.

"By Baxter Stockman. Don works for the Shredder, he gets an antidote." She pointed to the syringe. "Once a year, and it must be adminstered again. And Donatello does not know _how_ to make it."

"I thought... I could try-" he began. He sais cut him off, blood trickling down his collarbone, into the black fabric that covered him head to toe.

"Why should we beleive you, huh!?"

"Rapheal!" Leo's orders were cool but sharp. The sais were withdrawn and Don drew in a harsh breath, his legs feeling wobbly beneath him. Leonardo took Raph's place, staring Don in the eyes with the same ferocity as before. He could feel waves of distrust flowing from him. "Why? Why should we belive you?" He repeated. "After what you did to Michelangelo?"

Don's heart crumpled. "I... I wouldn't ask you to," he began. God, it felt weird to be talking to his elder brother. "But... I can explain."

"Then do it."

"It broke, in th scuffle." Don said, eyes flashing to the syringe. "And the antidote was on the ground, and... I didn't know how else to get it into his bloodstream... I paniced and I hurt him. I know there's no excuse. I regret what I did every day."

Mikey was staring, holding his neck, tears in his eyes. Don wasn't sure if he was processing what he was saying or the fact that he's had posion running through his veins for a year. He looked back to Leo, at the whites of his eyes that peered through the familiar blue. It was stained with spots of black.

"You realize you'll be killed for this, when The Shredder hears from me personally," Karai told him sharply.

Don forced himself to smile. And God, did it hurt, but he couldn't help it. The idea was so funny to him. "Was there ever a doubt about that?" he asked. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Be more fearful for your family, turtle," she stepped away, swords drawn at her back. "You've just doomed all three."

She was gone. Don was left with his three brothers, still feeling cowed by Leo's intesne staring contest and Raph's wringing hands that looked desperate to sink his sais into his carpace. Don then wondered what he must look like to them, playing dress up in Foot gear. He almost laughed, caught himself, sobered.

"I don't beleive it," Raph spat.

"Beleive what?!" Mikey jumped in, looking at his hand where the needle prick was oozing red. "That I have a posion in me!? Donnie, you have to get this outta me, man! You said you could do it, right?!"

"Micelangelo-" Leo warned, easing him down. "Don't jump to conclusions. We have no reason to beleive him."

"Are you kidding me?!" Mikey pushed. "It makes so much sense! Donnie would never betray us! I knew it, and now there's evidence and he _wants_ to come home! Why would we-"

"He ain't going home," Raph interjected. He looked to Leo for support, arms crossed and face stony. "I ain't beleivin' shit that comes outta his mouth. It's a trap, ain't it?"

Don didn't know what to say. "It doesn't have to be the lair," he spoke up. "Just a palce to make the serum, that's all."

Leo and Raph exchanged sour looks. A silent exchanged passed between the two. Raph snorted and shook his head, but Leo didn't appear moved. He looked at Don and said one word that made the turtle's heart find a little releif from its burning anxiety.

"Fine. The old lair... it... it still has your lab." He struggled to speak, but regained his composure with a short breath. "You can work there." The sword came back up, shattering what little releif he felt. "But if you're lying, you're going to regret it. Sorely."

"Understood," Don replied. The sword was removed. Raph took up the back with Mikey. Leo led the front. Don ran in between them, feeling the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt in his life, as they ran towards the sewers.


	4. Chapter 4

It was... really hard to walk into the sanctum. Everything was dark and quiet. Rats and spiderwebs had taken up the residence. There was a terrible draft and the arcing doorways that ran up a few floors were yawning ominously. The television and couch and kitchen were empty. Don wondered if Klunk had taken to their new home.

"Your things were left untouched," Leo said as they stopped in the center of the stonework. he held out the syringe, and Don took it with hesitant fingers. "You know where it is."

"Uh, thanks."

Rapheal walked by, bumping him in the back of the shoulder roughly. "Yeah, we don't want to hear it. So, tell us. What's this convient posion Mike's got floatin' around in his body?"

"Rapheal, you're making things worse," Leo ordered. "Take Michelangelo and return to the lair. Tell Master Splinter what has happened."

"And what about you, fearless?"

"I'll stay here and keep an eye on him. Go."

"Fine. Just be careful, yeah?"

Rapheal didn't argue, which was strange in and of itself, and took a reluctant Mikey with him back into the sewers. Don didn't watch them go. Just stared at the vial and the little bit of red still in it. He'd need Mikey's blood work done too, but figured that could wait. It was surreal to be standing there anyway, and he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Leo walked by him, towards the lab without a word.

Don followed and found that, yes, nothing had been touched. The machines were quiet and dark. The little space he used as a doctor's office was heavy with dust and the cabinets had been emptied. Guilt broiled in Don's gut. Leo had a bit of medical training, but not enough. Never enough. Their fearless leader would sometimes crack under the pressure when being faced with a severe wound. Don hadn't pushed him to help with more serious injuries. He wish he had.

"So... yeah." Leo coughed into his hand, loosing the riggidty he'd been maintaining. "Here we are..."

Don would need power. He wondered if he could get it turned on before the night was over, and reminesced about his old junkyard runs.

"Hey."

He looked up. Leo was watching him, looking up and down.

"I... want to beleive you," Leo began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But... I can't. Not yet. If you are telling the truth, and I will only say this once, then I'm sorry. If you are lying, and this is one of Shredder's tricks, then..." he sighed and said too quietly to hear, "please, just let this be real."

"You took the generator," Don said instead, unable to find the right words to answer with. Leo looked up, reformed his mask, and nodded. "Then I need another. I'm not allowed to leave this place, I assume?"

Leo nodded. "I'll be here to watch you tonight. And after what happened, I think it's best to stay here for the next few days. I'll... have Rapheal retrieve one. But we can't leave you alone."

Don stared at Leo for a long moment, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to just take in his face and eyes and mouth - things that were settled down and not currently twisted with terrifying fury. He just looked tired. Normal, almost, if not wary. He couldn't imagine him looking happy. It was too distant a memory. Leo looked away, unable to hold his gaze. Don almost laughed. He had no trouble on the roof top.

"Um... you can... take off that uniform," Leo said uncomfortably. "Your bed and gear is still in the back."

Ah. Bed. Wow. Don almost got lightheaded just thinking about a soft matress and the weight of the covers that smelt like damp moss. The Shredder's lair wasn't built for comfort. He had a low cot in Baxter's lab, but no pillow or blanket. Just springs and a thin rubbery layer to seperate them from his shell. He didn't want to undress in front of Leo, though. Not that a simple belt and kneepads wasn't considered bare.

"Thank you," he said instead, dipping his head a little, walking through the dead machines and unifinished projects he'd completely forgotten about. Leo stood there and watched until Don dissapeared around the cornere where he found his bed and the little counter beside it. His old journal, for late night ideas and "brilliant" ideas for new inventions, was open. A glass sat beside it, rimmed white where it had been left full of water. He sat down and groaned.

 _Yeah, okay. This was amazing._ He couldn't help the wide smile that bloomed across his face or the pure bliss in his limbs as he sunk into the matress. It was thick and layered with several sheets, his two pillows so much softer (and muskier, but what can you do?) then he recalled.

"You're not going to take off those clothes?" Leo's voice cut through his bliss and he sat up, finding his brother staring at him, the word _clothes_ rolling off his tonuge in disgust. "I want to talk, but... I don't want to while you look like that."

 _Oh,_ Don's own revulsion of the attire had worn off after a month or two. He had forgotten that foot logo was even etched onto his chest. It had become so normal. He slipped off the mask first and then the gloves and wrappings around his feet. He didn't take off the garbs over his shell or the belt at his waist that held it all together. He would have felt too naked, and when he folded everything up on the bed and waited, Leo only looked marginally happier.

"Fine. That's fine," Leo bit out. "Now what exactly is going on with Michelangelo?"

Don bit the inside of his cheek. "Ah, yeah. That. It's one of Baxter's inventions. I don't know a lot about it, beside the fact that he was infected a few days before... ah, before I was appraoched. By Karai."

"That night you dissapeared," Leo's voice wanned a bit, then regained his strength after a short cough into his fist. "Go on."

"She told me what I told you. Mikey was poisoned, and unless I wanted to watch him die, I'd help The Shredder's cause." He shrugged. "Simple as that."

"And you didn't know you had a year to figure an antidote out?"

"Not until Baxter sprung it on me a year later, the same day the posion was set to... combust," he said, for lack of a better word. He wasn't sure what the word combustion meant, but Baxter had been grinning a mile-wide when he said it.

"And that night... was the night you hurt him."

Don physically winced and looked away. "Yeah. Uh, Baxter gave me this," he held up the syringe and set it on the counter. "He said I had to inject it by two a.m. Mikey was freaking out and I dropped it. I had a few minutes left and..." he trailed off, unsure how to phrase his next words. "I panicked," he admitted. "I panicked and I knew I had to get it into his bloodstream, even if it meant hurting him. I'm sorry, Leo. For all my big brain's worth, I really fucked it up that night."

Leo stiffened. Whether it was from the uncharacteric curse or the use of his nickname. "I see."

"But I will make it right," Don burst out, hating how impassive Leo sounded. "As soon as the lab is up and running, I won't stop until I figure out a cure. I... I'll also need something more than the generator."

Leo raised a brow.

"A blood sample. From Mikey."

Leo stiffened. An air of something dark hit Don like a cold spell and he regretting bringing it up tonight. Leo merely nodded, told him not to leave the lab, and that he'd retrieve him in the morning. He left as stiff as a board.

Suddenly, the bed wasn't as soft as it had been.


	5. Chapter 5

Don woke up at exactly 4 am. He had went to bed a lot later than he usually did, but his biological clock didn't know that he wasn't in the Shredder's lair anymore. He was in his family's old one. It was cold without the generator, but the darkness was a nice change from the constant gleam of the white and silver lab. And no whirring of Baxter's mechanical body. Damn, that was _really_ nice.

Sitting up, Don placed his bare feet on the cold floor and looked down at the garbs he'd taken off. He slowly remvoed the last of the black fabric. There was an ugly mess of metal strips bolting cracks together and deep cuts littering the belly and back of his shell. The Shredder had been more than a little impatient back when Don first started working for him. He use to have a bad habit of taking his anger on the cpative turtle when his brothers did something highly infuriating. Or when the mere thought of Master Splinter was just overwhelming, and damn, did that hunk of metal think about his father a lot.

Don sat there, wondering if he should hide the scars. He didn't want to answer questions, though Raph or Leo probably wouldn't care to ask. Mikey would. Orange warmed his chest. Mikey would. Mikey believed him whole-heartedly. Mikey trusted him and cared for him, despite everything that Don had done.

Then a noise came from down in the sanctum, echoing through the pockets of tunnels, and Don realized held been sitting still and in thought for a few hours. He sat up, unuse to such quiet, and padded through his lab to the lip of the enterance that overlooked the rest of the lair. Leonardo was down there - probably hadn't slept a wink, if Don guessed - and so was Rapheal. The two were talking - er, kinda shouting, actaully - about one thing or another. They seemed to be attempting to keep their voices low and Don would have ducked away and left them be had not been seen by the red-banded turtle.

"Oh hey, looks who's up and at em'!" Raph called angrily, sweeping an arm up as Leo turned. "The traitor! We still gonna let him poke Mikey, huh? Let him use our brotha' as his own personal lab rat?"

"Enough, Rapheal."

"No. Can it, Fearless! We ain't gotten a say in this fro the get-go! Why are we being so reckless about this! You just wanna hand over some blood, maybe a bit of flesh? Oh, how about we jsut strap Mikey down to a dissection table now?!"

"You're overreacting."

"I'm lookin' out for the family! Something you forgot about!"

Leo remained calm. At this point, he should have returned the insults and a shouting match would have ensued. Instead, he merely crossed his arms, looked to Don, and asked him to come down. Don dropped the few stories and landed a bit wobbly, having not eaten anything the last few days. He had forgot to ask. Or maybe he just didn't want to. Either way, he steeled himself and walked towards the duo. Leo's eyes widened marginally and he cleared his throat. Raph was fine looking him up and down, no shame as he scoured the scars and criss-crossing bands. Don's face warmed. Raph might have reacted worse to the foot garbs though.

"What?" He asked, a little too defensivley. Raph's golden eyes snapped up and flashed in indignation.

"Don't get snappy with me," Raph warned. "You're a prisoner here, and until we figure out this whole Mikey thing, you better learn to watch ya mouth."

"Stop it," Leo ordered. "Did you bring the generator?"

"Yeah, but I didn't bring no blood. No way in hell we're doin' that till we clear some things up."

"And what would that be?"

"We're gonna have a chat. Just me and him."

"No, Rapheal."

"We need to-"

"If we talk, I'll be there too. I'll give you free reign of the conversation if it'll help ease your mind, okay? I know this is hard-"

Raph snorted. "Hard? You think seeing Donatello standing here right now is hard? It's fucking hell, and you-" he turned to Don with an accusing finger, "are the cause of it. Do you know how much agony out family went through because of you?"

Yes. And he hated to admit that Raph was right, but he knew. He had known how badly this would affect his family as soon as Karai had appraoched him while he was on a junk-yard run. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"I understand."

Raph growled like an animal. "No! No, you don't!"

"Let's talk this upstairs. Raph, go grab the generator and take it to the lab. Meet us in the dojo when you're done. Donatello, follow me."

The red-banded turtle gave Don another peircing glare and stormed off. Leo impassivley watched him go then headed towards their old training grounds. Don's heart stuttered a little, nerves flaring as they ducked under the stone archway. It was completely barren in here. It didn't look at all as he remembered.

 _I wonder what their new home looks like?_ He wondered absently.

"Sit."

The order had Don slipping down onto the floor where he stood. Leo gave him an odd look and sat down across from him, knees folded.

"Rapheal is having a very difficult time," Leo began slowly. "He may say things-"

"I understand," Don interuppted. "I understand exactly why he's upset."

"Do you?"

Don swallowed thickly, trying to remain as stoic as Leo was. He felt horribly inadequete. He was competly bare and stipped of any weapons. Hell, even his kamas would offer some sort of comfort. When Rapheal walked in and leaned up agaisnt the wall rather than take a seat, his nerves skyrocketed into anxiety land. But there was a burning question he'd been dying to ask. He blurted it aloud before he could second-guess himself.

"Does Master Splinter know?"

There was a beat of silence, then Leo spoke. "No. Not yet."

"And you think Mikey will keep quiet?" Don asked, unable to stop himself. It must have come off as an insult, and not a mere observation, because Ralph wetn rigid.

"Shut ya' trap and listen to Fearless. None of that ain't any of ya concern."

 _Noted. Sit down, shut up._ Don mused.

"We want to know everything. From start to finish," Leo stated. "If you're telling the truth, we're giving you a chance to tell us. We are worried for Michelangelo, but we can't fully trust you."

Ouch. That stung. But Don took a small breath to compose himself. "Where do you want me to start?"

"With Karai."

 _How to start, how to start..._ "As I said before, I was in the junkyard and she appraoched me. Alone. She explained the situation to me and how during our last encounter with the Foot, Mikey was shot and injected with the posion. She gave me a choice. Leave with her now and receive the antidote, or Mikey woul be dead by daylight. She was lying, obviously-"

"And you didn't come back to the lair? Didn't try to figure it all out for yerself like you just so happen to be doing now?" Raph interjected.

"I was told he had a few hours left to live," Don shot back, trying his damnest to hold in his frustration. "I panicked."

"Like how you ' _panicked'_ when you left him bloody and wounded last year? Yeah, sure."

"Stop it," Leo ordered. "We won't hear the whole story if you keep interuppting."

"Why should we listen?" Raph sneered. "He shows up outta' the blue telling us this crap, when he had plenty a' chances to do the same thing over the years/ You think The Shredder would just let him run free with his little ninja friends if he didn't trust him - even a little. He even admitted to workin' with Baxta'! Come on, Leo! He'd helped build machines meant to destroy us!"

"I did no such thing!" Don shot back, venom in his voice. He stood, legs aching where the cold stone had numbed his muscles. "I was stuck with menial tasks as that bastard's assistant! I was nothing more to them than a punching bag to vent their frustrations when you destroyed a weapons shipment, or pummeled Hun's pride! I made a mistake leaving that night, I know that now! But telling me off for trying to protect Mikey-"

"You don't get to say his name!" There was a shove. Tempers were flaring like a gasoline soaked t-shirt, and Don couldn't help but stoke the flames.

"Mikey! Mikey! Michelangelo!" He burst, feeling a bit like a child. But damn it, if it didn't feel good to throw a tantrum. "I can say whatever I damn well please!"

A punch struck him across the face. He was blind for a moment and then his own body was falling into the unthinking motions of defense, blocking the second blow to his stomach and upper cutting Raph in the jaw. The red turtle said something too smothered in rage to make out and Don realized he made a very bad mistake. Sais were lunging for his face and he was ducking and turning with little thought but - _holy shit, he's going to kill me. He's really trying to kill me again._

A katana was drawn and slid through one of the sai handles, retching it from Raph's grip. The pommel slid back and struck him in the chest. Raph stepped back, body shivering and tense, spitting in Don's direction. The shoved Leo's sword out of his way and it lowered slowly.

"There will be no fighting-" Leo began.

Footsteps. Everyone heard them, and Leo stopped the begining of his lecture to look towards the entrance of the lair. Hurried footsteps - four in total - were quickly making their way through the dark. Don lost his voice, and his throat went dry, when Master Splinter ran into the dim light of the sanctum, Mikey running behind him with a fearful face and his nunchucks drawn. Splinter stopped, Mikey running into his back with an _oof!_ when he saw his missing son. Don's heart stopped altogether.

"M-Master Splinter!" He stuttered. He felt a different kind of nervous energy than he did when meeting his brothers. He had grown use to their disgust and hate. He had grown use to fighting them on the rooftops of the city, as an enemy. But he hadn't seen his father in so long, seeing the old rat's face was a slap to the face. Seeing the father who he failed was as bad as Raph attempting to slit open his throat.

"Donatello," the rat whispered, one of his paws opening and closing, reaching out as if he weren't real. Then he was walking swiflty towards him and Don felt his face crumple and took a step back. Humiliation curdled in his stomach. He felt sick. "My son... oh, my son." A paw reached out, reared back when he noticed Don's carpace. He suddenly wished he hadn't removed his garbs. So he did the only thing he could do. The only thing that kept him from receiving further humilation when under Shredder's foot. He fell to his knees, bowed his head, and begged.

"I-I'm sorry, Master Splinter!" Don's forehead was cold against the ground. He felt his whole body shake and squeezed his eyes shut. Too many emotions were running through his head. "I've failed you - I- I've helped your enemies and-" What else could he say? Sorry for buddying up with the man you hate, the man that killed your sensei? Sorry for betraying our whole family and leaving you broken and miserable?

Splinter had crouched down before him, hands running over his shoudlers and then down his face. Don didn't want to look up, but he did when Splinter lifted his face to meet his. His eyes weren't angry. They were a far cry from it. He looked tired and old, sad and heavy with guilt. Guilt. Don foguht back the tears that wanted to flood, grinding his teeth together.

"Do not be sorry. Michelangelo has explained everything to me, my son." He was pulled into an embrace. It felt... nice, he supposed. He didn't feel deserving of it, but the familiar warmth of Splinter's fur and the touch of someone who meant him no harm won out. He embraced his father back and shuddered.

"I promise to make things right, Master," he said. "I promise, I promise, I promise. I'm going to help Mikey."

"I know you will. You have a good heart, my son. You did what you had to do to protect him. I understand."

God, that _hurt._ A good kind of hurt, like the soreness in his legs after a particularly rewarding workout. Or the stiffness in his shoulders after being hunched over a project for so long, until all that frustration was rewarded with desired results.

"I missed you so much," Don choked.

"We all missed you as well." Splinter said. "But now we have you back."

Not even Rapheal said anything, and Don was grateful to just hold his father. Then Mikey took a step forward, hands wringing together, face a little pale. Splinter drew back and Don looked to his orange-banded brother.

"We heard what sounded like a fight," he began shakily. "Are you okay, Donnie?"

"He's fine," Raph put in gruffly. He wouldn't look at anyone. Mikey ignored him and crocuhed beside his father, reaching out, asking for a hug. Don couldn't help but laugh a little and take Mikey into his arms, finally able to hold his brother he had hurt so badly. He could see the knotted scar tissue that ran up from collar bone to shoulder when Mikey fell into him, shaking and sobbing and unable to hold back.

"I want you to come home," he cried.

"I'm not leaving again, Mikey," Don told him firmly. "I'm going to cure you. And I'm never going to hurt you. Never again."

Mikey laughed wetly into his shoulder. "I don't blame you for anything. And I'm not scared, you know? About the posion. I know you'll fix me up. You've been keeping me alive this whole time. I can never thank you enough for that."

Don's breath hitched. "D-don't thank me, Mikey. Please."

His hug grew tighter. "Like it or not," Mikey said. "I never truly believed you betrayed us. I know that for sure now."

And that did hurt. More than Splinter holding him close or Rapheal trying to kill him or Leo's cold indifference.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: oh no not another fluffy chapter. yes, we'll get to the more angsty stuff soon, but damn it i cannot stop writing Mikey being a good brother. i love him so much, it's weird to think he's just some made up character

The family had been split into two parts. One half wanted Don to come home, to the new lair where he could be with his family. The second half wanted Don to stay here, in the old lair where his equipment was, where he could make the antidote without tattling to their enemies where their new home was located. Leo had been much more quiet about his worries. Raph had not, and he and Splinter had exchanged words for nearly an hour before Splinter's temper got the best of him and he slammed his cane into the cold stone with a crack.

"Donatello is coming home with us! That is the end of it! We will transport what he needs to make the cure back to the lair, and he shall not be treated as if he is an enemy. He is your brother. He had been returned to us. I will not let you turn a blind eye to this miracle!"

Calling him a miracle was a little far-fetched, but it still left warm spots in his chest to see his father so vehemently want him back home. Mikey was spouting his own reasons as well, refusing to allow himself to be butted out of the conversation. Leo remained relatively quiet, holding himself as if he were uncomforable and refusing to look at anywhere but the floor. Upon Splinter's final demand, though, he looked up and nodded curtly along with Raph. Their father had sounded furious, his tail lashing side to side before he turned to Donnie and held out a hand.

"Come, my son. It's time we brought you home."

He was led out by the back of the shell, fingers gentle as if afraid his bones would cave in, and out into the sewers. His brothers followed suit, everyone silent and tense. Don had never felt more akward in his life.

 _Scratch that, this was_ wayyyy _more akward._

The new lair was built into the walls of an out-of-use subway tunnel and the bus itself had been cleaned out and remade into an enterance hall. A large hole sat in its side and led into another section of stone work that emptied into a cicern. The water was still and reflected white where lights had been strung up agaisnt the low ceiling. There was a living room - couch and television - and a kitchen on the other side. It was the same fridge and furniture and toaster from the old lair. Don faintly wondered if the toaster even worked, or if they had been sitting on it for the last year. Don was pretty sure he never fixed it before the whole "incident". Even if he had, it would've been at the mercy of Leo all this time.

"So, this is home!" Mikey spread out his arms upon arriving, a bright smile on his face, looking for all the world as if he hadn't been crying only an hour ago. "Nice huh? We're waaaaay closer to that pizza place than we were before - you know, the one that has all those crazy toppings we like? Oh, man, we have to order some tonight! You still like brocolli on yours, right D?"

The old nickname was pleasent to hear and Don forced a smile, despite the tension straining his face. He didn't feel right, walking into this place. It was new. It was different. It defiently wasn't his home.

"It's been a while since I've had pizza," he admitted.

"What?!" Mikey slapped his face as if he had jsut witnessed the world implode. "Dude, we are totally going to splurge tonight!"

"Shouldn't we be more concerned with gathering the supplies to cure you?" Leo cut in, cold and firm.

Mikey shrugged, still smiling. "We have a whole year, right? And besides, D needs a night to settle in. Right, sensei?"

"Ah, I'm afraid your brother has a point," the rat said softly. "Of course, finding an antidote is top priority. Donatello, I will have you travel early tommorw with your brothers to collect what you need to accomplish this. Until then, I would like for Michelangelo to help you settle in. Rapheal and Leonardo, I'd like to have a private word with you."

"Oh man, really?" Mikey beamed. "Come on, D! I'll show you my room and we can make up a bed for you! I mean, at least until we get a room picked out for you!"

Donatello was led by the wrist and jerked away, around the glassy expanse of water and towards the back of the lair, where a hallways led into darkness. The dim light was just enough to see a row of doors on either side - doors were cheap and proabaly purchased at a Home Depot. He faintly wondered how April was doing and if her antique shop was still open. Casey too. It'd been a long time since he'd been able to go to their place, drink beer and play board games all night.

"Ta-Da!" Mikey pulled him towards the farthest room in the hall, right across from an empty one. Mikey pulled open the door to reveal a mess of pizza boxes and comic books, as well as a box of VHS tapes sitting on an old, cube-shaped television set. Mikey's bed was piled high with blankets and pillows, and above that, a hammock swung in the corner. The stone walls were pasted with posters. Mindless things about robots or superheroes. It... definetly smelt like Mikey's room.

"And we can watch movies, too! I knew you'd be coming back soon, so I scavneged anyhting that looked like you might like!" Mikey was rummaging through the box. Donnie walked in behind him, feeling terribly out of place. Then a set of tapes were thrust into his hands and he looked at them one by one.

A documentary on optometry and the furture of the business: 1994

A recorded lecture on business and time managment: 1991

Another documentary on "the wonder of the human brain".

Donatello smiled softly, the tension leaving his shoulders a bit. While he may not have been too excited to watch any of them - well, maybe he'd watch the last one out of curiosity sake - Mikey had went out of his way to save these.

"You... you really never beleived I'd betray you, huh?" he asked in a small voice.

"Come on, Donnie! You think I'd ever think that!?"

"Why aren't you scared, though? Why are you acting like... treating me like..."

Mikey's face fell. "Like what?"

"Like I never left."

"You're still Donatello." He muttered, as if offended. But then that brightness returned, albeit dimmer. He took one of the tapes and pushed it into the player. They had to wait for it to rewind, so the televison began its ardorous task of walking back through each scene. The two sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.

"Raph doesn't mean any of that," Mikey said.

"Hm?"

"Raph. He doesn't mean it. I know he's yelling a lot, but I think he's just confused. It was kind of mind-boggling, that you actually said you wanted to come home. I think he needs a few days to let the situation settle."

"That's... really smart of you, Mikey." Don said. Still didn't make him feel better, but there was no reason to voice that aloud.

"Someone had to start acting like it," his chest puffed out proudly. But now that the subject had been breached, Mikey's posture was weighing heavily in his shoulders. He watched the rewinding tape with a small frown. "Leo... I really don't know what to think. When you left, he started acting weird."

"Weird how?"

"I dunno, like, closed off. He's never been mean or spiteful like Raph, but he's hard to talk to. Splinter is like, the only sane one left, I think. But now that you're back, all that is gonna change! We're gonna be one big, happy family again!"

Don smiled weakily. He didn't have it in him to argue. No, they wouldn't be one, big happy family. There was still a long road to travel down. One that Don was already stressing over. Then he realized Mikey was still talking and snapped from his thoughts in time to catch:

"-annoying. It's stupid."

"I'm sorry, I spaced there, Mikey. What did you say?"

"Huh? Oh never mind, I think the tape is done." Mikey got off the bed, padded down to the player. The tape, however, had not finished rewinding all the way, but Mikey hit play and sat back down with Donnie to listen to a narrator and the exciting topic of brain matter. There was a small space between them. Don was sitting ram rod straight and hardly listening. Mikey wasn't exactly relaxed either. The documentary went on for a good twenty minutes before Mikey began to fidget. He kept sneaking glances at Don, and it obvious he wanted something.

"You okay?" Don asked.

"I..." Mikey grew quiet. The static of the screen drew long, tired lines in his face. "I just, really missed you. Like, a lot."

Don swallowed hard. He wanted to tell him that he was here, that everything would be fixed, but Mikey kept going, a shiver in his voice.

"I love Leo and Raph, but they can be selfish, you know? Like, closing themselves off and... I just, wanted to say, that..."

"Mikey. You can tell me anything." Don said slowly.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

There were unshed tears in Mikey's eyes. "I'm sorry. For letting those stupid Foot have you for so long. I'm sorry for not trying harder to help you, or figure out what was going on! I'm sorry for not keeping the family together or-"

Don reached out and pulled Mikey into a hug. It might have been more for himself than anything, because right now, he wanted to tell Mikey how much he meant the world to him. He refused to let go.

"Don't say that," Don said. "Don't tell me you're sorry. Nothing you did could have prevented this. I was the one who made the decision to leave. I'm the one-"

"I'm the one who went and got myself posioned."

Don was close to his own tears at this point. "And I'm the one who has yet to find a cure. Together, Mikey. We're in this together. No matter what, I'm never leaving you again."

Mikey shuddered, but when he looked up with watery eyes, there was a dumb, toothy grin stretched across his face. "You and me against the world, huh? Splinter will be with us, too."

"And Raph and Leo will join us when they're ready." Don added.

They sat like that for a long time. Don didn't want to let go. He didn't want to stop feeling the way Mikey's heart was beating - how alive and okay and healthy he was in that moment. Don made a promise to himself. No self-pity. No self-doubt. Nothing but progress on that damn cure. And if The Shredder wanted to try and harm one of his brothers again, he'd spit in his face with all the indignation of a pissy teenager.


	7. Chapter 7

The room across from Mikey's - as Mikey insisted - was to be Don's new room. It was relatively wide and spacious and sure, he wouldn't be able to fix his whole lab in here, but he only needed some equipment to get to work on the cure. Things could be added as he progressed.

Mikey wouldn't leave his side. They woke up on his bed, limbs flung around one another and the televsion screen black. The documentary had been long forgotten and the two had just spent the night talking. Not about Shredder or cures or betrayal. Mikey just rambled on about a new comic book he got, or how he had found his new television (in pristine condition) while he was skateboarding at the park during midnight. Don had been happy to listen to pretend that everything was normal. He even asked where Klunk was, but the kitten hadn't taken kindly to the move, and they lost him somewhere in the sewers. Don made a mental note to find some strong-smelling fish.

But the next thing he knew, he was blinking himself awake, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling and trying to recall where he was. Don sat up, found Mikey snoring and halfway falling off his bed, before everything came back to him. Right. He had betrayed The Shredder right in front of Karai. And now he was here. Home.

It felt really weird not to wake up in Baxter's lab. No white gleam or annoying buzzing, beeping sounds. Just quiet. The quiet, dark cool of the sewers. Don tried to smile, but he felt empty. He sat up with a groan and rubbed his face, digging kunckles into his eyes to draw out the residual of sleep. Mikey shifted beside him and was startled awake, falling onto the floor with a thunk. He hopped to his feet like a spring board, a smile as wide as the country adorning his face.

"Donnie!" He pulled the other into a hug before fixing his belt and stooping low to find his discarded kneepads. "Dude, I like, woke up and totally forgot about last night! I was like, was that a dream? And then I look over you're right- hey, you okay?"

Mikey paused, his second knee-pad halfway up his calf when he noticed Don's downtrodden expression. His face pinched in worry.

"I'm okay," Don smiled forcefully. "I'm just, as you said, still processing last night. I forgot where I was."

"Oh," Mikey paused and sat up straight. "You... did you think you were back in Shredder's lair?"

Don nodded.

"I'm sorry, dude. I didn't ask, because well, it seemed rude, but if you want to talk, I'm here for you."

"It wasn't as bad as you'd think," Don reassured him. "Baxter was just an annoying neighbor. More annoying than your snoring."

"Hey!" Mikey grinned again, happy to have avoided the topic altogether.

Don was too. He had no time for self-pity. "Master Splinter said that I'd be helping gather equipment today. I also need something from you, Mikey."

His younger brother gave a salute. "Ask away!"

"A blood sample, when I get back."

His arm fell and a dejected look crossed his face. "Man, I hate needles. But, if it needs to be done," he nodded firmly to himself, "then I'll suffer through it. Somehow."

Don actually laughed. A bough of tension broke from his chest and could breath a little better. "I love you, Mikey."

"I love you too, D! Now let's get some breakfast! Can't start a day of sciency stuff without food!"

 _Food._ Don followed Mkey out into the hall. That word rung clear as day in his head. He recalled Mikey mentioning pizza last night, but no one had actually placed an order. Mikey had been too caught up in his own head, and Don had insisted to Splinter that he was too tired to actually eat. Mostly because his nerves had clenched his stomach painfully. But food sounded really amazing.

Baxter hadn't had the best selection to choose from. But he still had it better than Don, who was stuck with what he called "turtle food." Pellets of some kind. Brown and dry and tasteless. He had gotten so use to them, he'd just swallow them by the handful like a shot of vodka, disgust on his face, and start his day as Shredder's henchman. His stomach clenched again. His nerves flared. Weird. It was just food, he thought sourly. It's not like sleeping in a real bed again, or getting to talk late into the night with Mikey.

But... his heart began to pound dangerously fast when they entered the kitchen. Master Splinter was sitting at the dining table, drinking a cup of tea. Neither Raph nor Leo were here. Don was grateful, watching Mikey sprint to the fridge to pull out a bunch of ingedients. Don forced hsi eyes away from the carton of eggs and the jug of orange juice - dear god, he'd forgotten what orange juice tastes like - and took a seat across from his father. Splinter smiled warmly at him and reached out a paw of grab Don's hand, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles.

"I'm glad to see you up and well, my son," Splinter told him. "It is, I'll admit, quite a shock to have you here with us. Safe." He pulled back, took another sip of his tea, watching Don as if he'd dissapear right again from under his nose. "To have you here brings more peace to my heart than you can imagine."

"I'm... I'm really happy to be back home, Master Splinter."

Splinter's whiskers twitched, just a bit, and his eyes softened. "I understand it is a lot to take in at once. I'm sure once we rebuilt your lab and your room, you feel more comfortable."

"Yeah!" Mikey said from the stove, his frying pan out, something cracking agaisnt its edge. "We can use that old room near the entrance for your lab, D! And you can have the room right across from mine! We'll totally deck it out!"

There was a hiss and a sizzle. Something started to waft around the room. Don's stomach clenched painfully again. How long had it been since he'd eaten? He couldn't remember, but his mouth was watering a mile a minute and he had to swallow to keep from drooling.

"Are you okay, Donatello?" Splinter leaned forward worryingly. Don wasn't sure he'd seen his father display so many emotions so openly. He nodded shakily, looking back to Mikey's dancing form. Depsite the lack of music, he was shaking his body as if the stereo was blaring, flying an omlete into the air and catching itandholyshitthatomletelookedlikeheaven!

Splinter followed his line of sight and his ears perked up. He looked back at his son worryingly. "I'm afraid the excitment of last night caught up to us. You must be starving."

"I- I, yeah," Don stumbled. "Sorry, I just..." damn it, where were his words?! "I missed Mikey's cooking."

"Then you're going to be estatic to be presented with-" Mikey made a flourish of setting a plate before Donnie and sliding the fat omelete onto it. "Mikey's MEGA OMLETE! There's, like, a lot of good things stuffed into it."

It was fluffy and layered with green onions and lots of cheese. Its sides were leaking mushrooms and meat and even more cheese. A glass of OJ was set out beside it. Mikey bowed, sitting up and accidentally bonking his head with the pan. He rubbed at his scalp and played it off with a laugh, sitting next to his brother and setting his chin in his palms. "Try it! Tell me what you think!"

Don's mouth was overflowing now. He swallowed thickly and picked up the fork, taking a large hunk of steaming egg into its prongs. He hesitated a moment, excitment blooming in his chest, and took a bite.

 _Oh damn. Oh wow._

"What do you-"

Don was shoveling it in. He forgot where he was, forgot what he was eating, just that it wasn't those stupid pellets! And the cheese! He hadn't had cheese in so long, the stuff felt like a drug. He was only part way through when a hand fell onto his hand and tried to keep him from shoveling more in. He felt himself panic and jerk the whole dish away, clutching it to his chest, glaring at the hand that-

oh. Mikey was staring wide-eyed and retreating his out stretched arm slowly. He put both palms up and tried to smile. "Hey, sorry, dude. Just, uh, try to slow down? You could choke."

Emberassment flooded heat through his skin. Don thought he'd turn bright red had his complexion not been green. He set the plate back awkwardly, sourly noting he had smeared cheese on his carpace. Splinter was looking at him with equal worry, his tea forgotten to the side. He asked Mikey for a napkin and the turtle ran to retreive it, holding it out to Don who gratefully began to clean himself up. His face had bits of food clinging to it. He felt humilated.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what- I just got-" He couldn't find the right words. He wasn't sure why he had done that to begin with.

"It's cool, D," Mikey's voice smoothed out and he acted as if nothing happened. "You can have as much as you want, just be slower while you eat, yeah?"

Don nodded dumbly. He wasn't hungry anymore. He felt slightly sick.

"Do you wish to talk, my son?" Splinter asked. His voice was so quite, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

"I... I just... _really_ missed Mikey's cooking," his voice hitched on a watery sob. He held a plam to his mouth to keep from shuddering, but his body shook anyway. "I still can't believe I'm here. That I'm back with you guys."

Mikey sidled up next to him. "Gee, Donnie. Had I known you like my cooking _that_ much, I'd a had a buffet waiting for you! I'm gonna make you the best meals ever! Everyday from now on, okay?"

Don finally got himself under control, wiping at his eyes with a fond smile before gripping Mikey by the shoulder. He gave him a small shake. "You're too good to me, and... this omlete is amazing. You really have improved."

Mikey beamed, shoving the plate closer. "Don't let me stop you!"

And though his stomach was cramping, Don couldn't help but take several more bites of the gooey egg before the smell became too much to handle. He sat back and, for the first time in forver, felt his hunger satisfied. Splinter took the plate when he was done, asking Mikey to retreive his brothers. They needed to start gathering things from the old lair, and should Michelangelo like to tag along, he saw no issue. Don was eternally grateful for that. He wasn't sure he could stomach being around his other siblings. Not alone. Not yet. Leo's interrogation had been enough of a scare for a whole year, thank you very much.

Mikey was heard banging on doors when he scampered away to the hall. Don sat at the table, listening to Splinter wash the dishes, until the trio came around. Raph and Leo sent a jolt of panic through Don, but he quickly righted himself and stood, eager to go and get this over with. The sooner he was working on the cure, the better.

"What exactly do we need to be lugging back?" Raph asked, voice heavy with sleep.

"Um, not much," Don said quietly. "At least, not much yet. It'll depend on what I need after I deconstruct what we have of the temporary cure and look at Mikey's blood."

The orange-banded turtle squeaked, but quickly played it off by humming some random song.

"Then let's go," Leo interjected, belt and pads on neatly and his katanas at his back. "We have no time to waste."

"You guys don't want some breakfast?" Mikey asked.

"Not hungry," Raph said, walking by towards the exit. Leo gave Don a quick glance and caught his eye. He looked away and followed suit. Don felt numb walking behind them, but then Mikey bounded up beside him and tried to start a conversation about the nature of zombies. Don's heart wasn't into it, and though he tried to humor his brother, he could only focus on the pattering of their footsteps.

His lab was set up by the end of the day. Just a table and a handful of machines and tools. Nothing impressive. His old laptop still worked after he found the charger and taped up the end. It glared to life with a little tune, and Don felt marginally happier to have access to the internet again. There was always a helpful guide or two. He pulled one up as he got to work on desynthesizing the red serum. They had no syringes, so Mikey, Leo and Raph went topside as soon as soon as it got dark to find some, as well a few more supplies he was lacking. Well, they went on patrol, but Mikey promised to gather everything on Don's list if he could. Even the syringes, he added glumly.

Patrol would have been nice. Don would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous. But the cure was first and foremost. So he dive head first into tackling the problem, finding it rather difficult to start a new project on his own. For the last year, it had been Baxter telling him what to do and where to stand. He had become so use to follow directions, that as soon as he had to make his own decisions, he felt lost.

His journal was laid out beside him. He began to fill up the pages with his chicken scratch writing. He still felt a bit out of place, but the familair feel of pencil agaisnt paper began to ease him into his old routine. Soon, a few hours had passed. He had forgotten being left behind. He had forgotten about Raph and Leo and even Mikey and his breakfast that made him act like a ravenous animal. And then Splinter knocked at his doorless arcway and Don jumped out of his thoughts, his pencil falling out of his hand.

"Master Splinter!" Don greeted his father with a quick dip of his head. "Sorry. You startled me."

"How is your progress coming along, my son?" Splinter padded up beside him, looking down at the array of tools and notes. The syringe had been opened up and the liquid seperated into different vials. The rat scrutinized them with some confusion before taking Don by the shoulder.

"Please, take a break. I'd like to have a word with you."

"Now? I mean, I should keep working and I've barely-"

"Please, my son. Just a moment of your time."

Don nodded reluctantly, tidying up his space and following Splinter out into the sanctum. The dojo was near the kitchens and as they passed, Splinter asked if he'd like to have some leftovers from dinner. It had been homemade soup - chiken noodle - and it had taken all his strength not to devour his bowl in a few heavy slurps. Splinter, like Mikey, had been very admant about his eating three meals a day. Large ones at that. Don respectfully declined and they walked into the dojo.

It was smaller than their old one. Don had yet to see it. A weapons rack was hoisted onto the wall and mats were laid out under them. Unlit candles were melted into the stonwork, and Splinter lit a few to brighten the atmosphere. They took a seat across from eachother, and Don fidgeted nervously with his hands in his lap.

"Please, do not be nervous," Splinter began. "I know how difficult this transition must be for you, as well as the attitude of you siblings."

"Uh, yeah," Don laughed humorlessly. "I'm afraid it's more of an attitude problem. Raphael hates me."

Splinter's ears flattened. "No, my son. He's just confused. As is Leonardo. The following months after you left, it was Raphael who attempted, agaisnt my wishes, to infiltrate the Shredder's lair. He beleived, as Michelangelo and I do now, that you would never betray your family."

Don didn't have to ask why all that changed. He could still hear Mikey screaming as he drove his kama into his shoulder, desperate to get to his blood.

"And Leo?" He asked instead.

Splinter sighed. It was tired and weary. "I'm afriad Leonardo has been quite emotionally unavailable. He beleives it was his own actions that drove you to betrayal."

"What?" Don perked up, face paling. "He doesn't honestly - why would he have thought such a thing?"

"It was never my place to prod," Splinter said. "I merely wish to help you understand that your brothers are facing their own inner demons. It will take time, but I believe wounds will heal."

"I... I suppose so."

"I also wished to extend an invitation to you, my son."

"Hm?"

Splinter lifted a paw and waved it around the dojo, standing as he walked towards the weapon rack. "I wish for you to resume training with your brothers. My mind has been at unease since your return. I'm feaful The Shredder may wish to have you back, and to continue your training as soon as possible may prevent such a horrible thing from occuring again. I want to rebuild your strength and you bond." He took a staff from its end. Don realized exactly what it was as the rat turned, the wood held almost delicatley in his palms. "I wish for you to take your place once more among this family."

Don was offered the staff. He reached out gingerly and rolled his fingers along the curve. It slipped into his hands, so much lighter than he remembered. So much... better, than the kamas. He stood up as he went through the motions of turning it over and inspecting the grains. He gave an experimetal swipe, a surge of satisfaction running through his limbs.

'Weak'

His heart stuttered. He ground his teeth together and took a second swipe. Another followed after a firm step, then another. The air whipped around the wood, whistling in time to each sharp motion. He stopped with the end held out before him, the pole shaking only minisculy in his hands. His breath was heavy.

"Donatello. Are you alright?"

He eased himself out of the stance. Splinter was watching him with a calm posture but worried eyes. "Yes, sensei. It's just, it's been so long since I've used a staff. If feels... really good, actually. Much better than those kamas."

"Ah, I was wondering about those," Splinter admitted. "I assume it was not your choice to take them?"

"No... The Shredder didn't approve of a weak man's weapon, as he called it. I beg to differ," he added, another swipe sending electricity up his arms. He smiled, retracted, then bowed to his father. "Thank you, Master Splinter."

"No need for gratitude, my son. I am merely returning what belong to you. Just as well as this."

A purple band was slipped from his robe and held out on both palms. Don was momentarily stunned by the deep violet he'd come to see as an extension of himself. He didn't reach out though. Not yet.

"I... I can't."

Splinter looked up in shock. Hurt flashed across his features and Don lifted his hands up quickly.

"No, I'm not refusing, just... just not yet. It wouldn't feel right. Not until Raphael and Leonardo have forgiven me."

"I see," Splinter slipped the band back into his sleeve. "I understand, my son. I shall hold it for you a little longer, and when you are ready, you need only ask."

Donatello bowed, heart heavy. "Thank you, sensei."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Thanks to all the comments! It's lovely to read them all after a long day of work! I LOVE THEM ALL!

A few days passed. Raphael and Leonardo had refused to talk to him. Donatello spent most of his time in his new lab, working on the serum that was making him want to tear his non-existent hair out. Meanwhile, Mikey spent most of his time around his long-lost brother and going out of his way to find things for Don's room. A mattress was squished up against the wall, and Mikey had gathered half of his pillows and blankets to make sure his brother was warm and comfortable. It didn't mean the two didn't spend nights in Mikey's room, falling asleep after hours of talking or VHS tape marathons.

Donatello had developed a relationship with Mike that he'd never had before. One that surpassed their bond even before he had left to work with the enemy. He now longer became annoyed with Mikey's antics or his loud-mouthed behavior. He found himself laughing more at his jokes, and listening to his long-winded ramblings without a scowl or disinterest. In turn, Mikey had matured. He was more attentive and could listen without his interest trailing elsewhere. He could take hints when Don was becoming frustrated or needed to work through an experiment on his own.

Splinter too was more open. More fatherly than he had been. He often brought Donatello food and would tell his son about his soap operas. Don would listen and ask questions, despite having no interest whatsoever, because he had grown to crave company. Silent or not, Don's nerves felt less frayed when either of the two were nearby. Still...

Splinter had given him a few days to rejoin training. Don had been working on Mikey's blood sample the day he was suppose to and threw a fit when his equipment didn't work. It seemed sitting in the dust had left his tools inoperative, despite appearing perfectly fine. He had yelled at Splinter then, bursting like a child and demanding he be allowed to work at the old lair - alone, in the dark, with all the equipment he needed. Splinter had taken several moments to calm him down and had Don write down everything he needed to be replaced.

He supposed his frustration had just bubbled over. He hadn't done anything but stand at the flimsy table top and work, stiff and unmoving for hours on end. His legs were aching for a rooftop run, but that was out of the question. Splinter wouldn't dare let him top side for a long time. So his next best option was to finally take Splinter up on his invitation and train. The idea terrified him. Leo and Raph would be there. They'd be forced to share a room with him. Still, Mikey and Splinter would be there as well... So the next day, when he walked into the cold lab and found his insides twisting with unease and irritability, he grabbed his bo staff up against the wall and padded slowly to the dojo. He could hear the tell-tale hiss of metal against metal and flesh against flesh. He peeked into the dojo, staying close to the shadows, to find his family just beginning their morning spars.

Leo and Raph were paired together, Mikey sitting off to the sit sitting back on his palms and watching the fight. Leo had just sent one of Raph's sais flying out of his grip and now the two were sweating heavily and struggling to get the upper hand. The slic of the katanas ripped through the air and Raph flew back onto his shell. He grunted and maoned as he sat up, giving Leo a hard glare.

"Cheap shot, Fearless."

Leo, though breathing heavily, sheathed his swords and smiled faintly. "Next time, try not the rush things. You're only making it easier to break through your defenses."

Splinter nodded from his place at the head of the mat. "But your kicks have improved greatly from last week's session," he added. "Good job, Raphael, Leonardo. I see how hard both of you are working."

But Raphael wasn't listening. He had seen Donnie peeking around the corner, and his golden eyes flashed darkly. He snorted, picked himself up and jabbed a thumb in his direction.

"We got ourselves a peeping tom."

"Huh?" Leo caught Don's gaze and he quickly looked away, but Splinter smiled warmly and Mikey jumped to his feet with a grin of his own.

"Hey, dude! Finally, you decided to join in!"

"Yes, I was hoping we'd see you soon, my son. Come, we were just having some light sparring sessions."

Raph was glaring a hole in his head. He and Leo stayed well away while he found a spot next to Mikey, his brother tugging on his arm and reaching out to look at his staff. "Oh man, I haven't seen you use this thing in forever! We're gonna kick some serious ass now that you're back."

"Language, Michelangelo," Splinter warned.

He smiled sheepishly. "Ah, I mean, we're gonna kick some serious butt, yeah, butt. You can pair up with me, D!"

"Naw, I have a better idea," Raph interjected. "How about he takes me on? You know, for old times sake." The bite in his tone set Don's teeth on edge. His sais twirled through his fingers. "Wadda' say, Donnie Boy?"

Splinter was going to say something. Don might have let him call it off, judging by the way he shot Don an understanding look, but then the word 'weak' flashed back through his mind. His grip tightened on his staff and he leveled him with a glare of his own.

"Okay. Yeah, for old time's sake." His voice sounded a lot stronger than he felt and Raph raised a brow in slight surprise. Then he grinned, stepping onto the mat.

"Come on then, I ain't got all day."

Splinter did not intervene. He merely stepped back and waited for Don to take his place across from his brother. He rose a hand and called for the match to start. Don wasn't use to his bo staff. Over a year of using the kamas had left him floundering as Raph executed the first blow. The wood vibrated in his hands. His wrists hurt and he readjusted his grip, stepping back and dodging a kick, releasing a sharp jab into Raph's side. Satisfaction bloomed in his chest when his brother stumbled back and he took a moment to regain his balance and prepare for the offensive. And just as he assume, Raph was pissed about the hit and charged him aggressively, forcing Don to take several more steps back along the mat.

He was going to lose. He knew that, as he went through the motions and ducked another blow. But to be able to fight back felt good. The Shredder's training had always been used as punishment. One against three, or one against five. Whether it was against the elite, Hun, some lowly Foot ninja or Bebop and Rocksteady, Don had always been given the disadvantage. He had a fighting chance, and grabbed onto it, swinging his bo up and catching Raph on the side of his head. There was a clunk, a spark of rage in his gold eyes, and Don felt his heart suddenly clench. He froze. He was back on the rooftop, metal catching at his throat, that anger turning into pure contempt for his being. And then he was sprawled outside the mat, his own face burning and his head spinning. He sat up quickly, vision a bit blurry, to see Raph standing over him with a pleased smirk.

"Hmp," he tutted. "Thought The Shredder would have taught you better than that."

"Raphael," Splinter warned.

"It's fine," Don said, picking himself up. He reached for his bo, checking for any cracks in the wood. "It felt nice to use this again, actually."

"Alright, D! Way better than those blade-thingies you had!" Mikey bounded up behind him. "You look way cooler using the staff, too."

"Yes," Leonardo spoke up, and Don was startled when he said, "It was nice to see you wield your bo staff again, Donatello."

"Uh, t-thanks," he stuttered. He clutched his weapon his his chest, rolling it between his fingers to keep his attention on anything but himself. "Uh... so, who's next?"

"Michelangelo. Leonardo." Splinter took the hint and ordered the two turtles up to the mat.

Don took his seat out of the ring, criss-cross on the floor, well aware of Raph's presence from his place at the wall. He wasn't sure this was a good idea anymore. Sure, if was nice to use his staff again, but he didn't want to fight his brothers. Seeing Raph come at him had been too much to process. He felt like he was dressed back up in the Foot garbs.

Before the next match ended, he snuck back to his lab to continue his work.


End file.
